


The Answer Is Always Yes

by xenachakram12



Category: Glee
Genre: Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Finn, Canon Compliant, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prompt Fill, Pseudo-Incest, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2474828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenachakram12/pseuds/xenachakram12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the prompt:  <i>Finn's shipping off to the Army the following morning. Kurt convinces him that it's not too late to change his mind with slow, sweet, tender sex. I want soft kisses, and sweet touches, and s very happy ending. (But no Blaine or Rachel bashing, please.) And if you write Finn being submissive and bottomy, just enjoying Kurt leading the way, I'll love you forever.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Answer Is Always Yes

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt is from the hiatus between Seasons 3 and 4, and... I just now finished it. Better late than never, eh? The fic didn't go exactly as expected, but I hope that it fills the prompt sufficiently. Enjoy!

Even though they aren’t in the same room at the time, Finn  _feels_ when Kurt finds out.  A chill runs through his body so strongly that he has to literally shake it off, and it wouldn’t have meant anything to him—he would have forgotten about it completely—if when he got home Kurt’s gaze weren’t purposefully diverted and his shoulder weren’t made of frost.

Hours later Finn has had enough.  “Okay, so how much longer is this gonna go on, dude?  Because I’m leaving in a few weeks, and I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

Kurt looks up to the heavens, shaking his head with his arms crossed, the picture of exasperation.  When he speaks his words are lead: heavy and cold and corrosive upon prolonged exposure.  “The Army, Finn?  Of all the things you could do with your life...”

Finn already knows what he’s supposed to say.  He’s had this conversation with Burt and his mom already.  He just wishes that he’d had the guts to tell Kurt outright instead of him hearing from someone else.  For some reason telling Kurt was promising to be the hardest conversation, and Finn had put it off way too long.  He hopes the Army will teach him courage.

“Look...  I know, alright?”  Finn pleads.  “I’m not tough, or _coordinated_ , and no one seems to think that I’ll be able to get up at sunrise, but...”

Kurt interrupts with this frustrated sigh-slash-growl thing, and it stops Finn cold.  “You think that’s what I’m worried about?”  Kurt demands.  “Your potential success as a soldier?”

“Uh...”  Finn isn’t sure how to react, but Kurt doesn’t give him the time anyway.

“Finn, the Army isn’t just about Boot Camp and bad haircuts.  You have to actually serve your time.”  Finn just blinks, so Kurt continues.  “You could get deployed, and who knows where you could end up.”

“I know that,” Finn replies.  “I know that you think I can’t handle it; nobody does.  But I can do this.  I can be a better man than my father; I can make something of myself.”  Finn searches Kurt’s eyes but finds no comprehension.  “I’ll prove it to you.  I will.”

Finn can see the anguish on Kurt’s face, but he doesn’t understand it.  “That’s not...”  Finn can see Kurt bite at his bottom lip.  “I can’t do this right now; not after…”  He doesn’t continue, and before Finn can question it Kurt turns, his body drawn and tight, and strides out of the room.

Weeks pass and while they don’t exactly avoid each other, things aren’t normal between them either.  When Finn compliments Kurt for his most recent culinary triumph, Kurt smiles in acknowledgement, but his eyes don’t get all warm and crinkly like they should.  If Kurt is still mad at him that’s okay, Finn thinks; he just wishes he would talk to him.  One evening, after the very last Friday Family Night dinner they will have all together, Carole brings it up.

“What’s wrong with you and Kurt?”  She inquires, nudging him with the side of her elbow as she washes dishes and he dries.  “And don’t give me that innocent look.  Something hasn’t been quite right between you guys for a while.”

Finn feels a pang of guilt.  The only thing worse than screwing up is admitting that you screwed up, and the only thing worse than that is having to admit it to your _mom_.  “Yeah, he’s pretty mad at me for the whole Army thing.  That and I didn’t really, actually tell him about it.  He kinda found out from someone else.”

Carole turns to her son with a look that he hates.  “Finn Joseph Hudson...  I cannot believe you!  I thought you told him when you told Burt and me.”  Finn just shakes his head and takes his scolding like a man.  “No wonder he’s been so down lately.  Between that and breaking up with Blaine—”

“Wait... what?  Kurt and Blaine broke up?”

Carole waves a wet, soapy hand.  “Well, they are calling it a ‘break’ and it probably is, but believe me; the heart doesn’t know the difference.”

Finn falls in a lean against the kitchen counter and lands with a thump.  “I had no idea.  He never told me.”

Carole hums an acknowledgement under her breath.  “Then I guess the gap in communication goes both ways.”

\---

The night before he is supposed to leave for Basic Training, Finn is preoccupied.  He knows he has plenty of reasons to be worried and upset: the way he ended things with Rachel, the pressure of redeeming his family name, the fear of his unknown future.  His head is all cloudy and he does his best to make some peace in his mind so he can sleep, but he can’t because at the forefront of his worries is the image of a familiar face, distorted with the familiar weight of worry he shouldn’t have to bear.  Kurt.

Finn glances at the dial of his digital alarm clock.  He’s been in bed for an hour already and he is no closer to sleep than he was when he laid down.  He sighs, mad at himself if he’s honest, and gives up.  He can’t settle all his problems tonight, but there’s one that maybe he can put to rest.  He realizes now that he should have done this weeks ago.

Finn creeps across the hall and knocks softly on Kurt’s bedroom door.  He’s not sure he wants to wake Kurt if he’s already asleep, and he certainly doesn’t want to wake the parents.  Finn doesn’t mind groveling for forgiveness, but he’d rather not have an audience.

“Come in,” Kurt responds, his voice soft through the door.  When Finn enters, he sees Kurt under the covers, but his head is propped up with pillows and his bedside lamp is on.  The hardback book that rests in his lap looks heavy enough that it could be wielded as a weapon against intruders.  Upon that thought, Finn really hopes that he isn’t in enough trouble to be considered one.

“Hey,” Finn half-whispers, afraid to disturb the stillness of the room.

“Hey,” Kurt replies.  He face and posture are relaxed and soft.

“Can we, like, talk?”  Finn crosses closer to Kurt.  “’Cause I’m leaving soon and I don’t want it to be like this.”

Kurt smiles gently and nods.  “I was just thinking about coming to talk to you actually.”

“Yeah?  Does that mean you already forgive me?”

 “That’s not…”  He decisively pats the edge of his bed in invitation.  “Just come sit down, okay?”

Finn does and waits for Kurt to continue.   “Yes,” Kurt admits, “I was angry that you didn’t tell me that you were enlisting.  I mean, if we’re really friends and brothers, then this is the kind of thing that you should tell me.”

“I didn’t know how!  I was kinda hoping that I would just… never have to.”

Kurt makes a sarcastic, disbelieving face.  “And you thought… what?  I would never notice?  What are you… _five_?”

Finn resists the urge to get up and bang his head into things.  “I know; it was dumb.  It’s just… of all the people that I had to tell, the thought of telling you was the hardest.  Why do you think that is?”

Kurt throws his hands up.  “I have no idea!  Believe me; the day that I understand everything that is going on in your head is the day I start wearing puffy vests.”

“Well, I’m sorry, okay?  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you…  Maybe the Army will teach me to be brave.”

Kurt sighs deeply and pats Finn twice on the hand, mumbling to himself, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Finn can feel his brow furrow in confusion.  “Um.  What?”

Kurt looks into Finn’s eyes.  “Do you understand what the military does to you?  They… tear you down and build you back up again; they turn you into a different person.  They’re going to expect you to _kill people,_ Finn, or at least to be able to.  They’re going to expect you to watch people die, and to not fall out of step when you do.  Do you get that?”

Finn gapes.  “I…”

“Finn.”  Kurt looks gravely serious.  “People who come back from active duty?  They aren’t the way they were before.  You’re… gentle.  I mean, you have your moments of callousness, but at your core?  You’re sensitive and _good_.”  Kurt looks down, smoothing his hand over the crisp fabric of his duvet.  “I don’t want you to lose that.”

Finn considers the idea for the first time.  He had hoped that the Army might make him better, but he never thought that it might make him worse.  He finds that there is nothing he can say; can he really promise that he’ll come back and be the same?

“Do you really think I’m that good?  I mean, I haven’t always been the best person, especially to you.  It’s a good thing that we built a new house, because every time I went down to the basement in the old one I would feel all guilty and sick.”

Kurt waves it off.  “We’re past that now.  You’ve proven yourself.”

Finn isn’t sure that if it were him, he’d be able to get over something like that so easily.  “Why are you so nice to me?”

A surprised laugh bubbles up from Kurt’s chest.  “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Whenever I do something dumb or mean, you just… forgive and forget.  Sometimes I don’t even feel like I deserve it.”

Kurt reaches out and squeezes shoulder.  “You need to stop being so hard on yourself,” Kurt asserts, as if the statement should be completely obvious.

The comment strikes such a chord that Finn can feel it vibrate in his chest.  He shakes his head, unaccepting.  “But I don’t know what I’m doing!  I’m getting on a bus in the morning, and I’m going to Fort I-Don’t-Even-Know to sign my life away, and for what?  To prove that my life is worth something?”

Finn springs off of Kurt’s bed and paces, and Kurt looks stunned.  “Wow, okay.  I didn’t see this coming.”  Kurt whips his covers off and pads in bare feet around the bed to approach Finn.  Finn avoids looking at Kurt, his chin pulled down so far that it’s almost touching his chest.  Kurt steps into Finn’s space, resting his hand on bare skin of Finn’s arm.  The contact is almost shocking.

“Finn?”  Kurt ducks his head a little to look up at Finn’s averted gaze.  “Hey, come on.”  Kurt removes his hand from Finn’s arm and uses the tips of his fingers to coax him to raise his chin.  Finn resists, afraid of looking at Kurt.  Afraid of having to recognize all the ways he has messed up.

Finn relents though, raising his chin and looking at Kurt.  Kurt, whose expression is concerned and open, waiting to help Finn in whatever way he can.

Finn’s lips are on Kurt’s before he even takes a breath.  The shock of the contact hits Finn like a wave, almost enough to knock him backward, so he grips Kurt hard at this elbows and holds on tight.  Kurt makes a muffled noise, but with his eyes carefully closed Finn can’t tell if it’s angry, confused, or what.  He never thought he’d kiss Kurt—never thought he’d want to—but with Kurt solid and warm against him, with the smooth slick of his lips and the strength of him in his hands, Finn actually can’t remember why it hadn’t occurred to him before.

It doesn’t last long: a few seconds of slightly tilted heads and closed mouths, their chests close enough to barely brush.  Kurt pulls back and Finn freezes, his stomach high in his throat like it gets on one of those drop rides at the fair.  “What was that?”  Kurt asks, breathy, and there isn’t enough of his voice for Finn to pick up on any emotions.

“I dunno,” Finn replies.  “I’m sorry.”

Kurt just blinks.  “You are the strangest person I’ve ever met.”

“You aren’t the first person to tell me that.”

They stand looking at each other, and Finn realizes how hard he still grips Kurt by the arms.  He lets go and shakes his head.  He’s done it again: he found this stupidest thing he can imagine and jumped in with both feet.  Maybe the Army _should_ rebuild him, because he isn’t exactly proud of the person he is now.

When Finn turns to leave, Kurt take a step forward and reaches for Finn briefly, but he doesn’t make contact.  He aborts the movement and his hand falls limp again down to his side.  “You don’t have to go.”

Finn stops in his tracks.  “You mean back to my room, or to the Army?”

Kurt shrugs one shoulder.  “Neither, I guess.”  Kurt sits back on his bed, his pale, bare feet resting on the floor.  “You know, Finn… it occurs to me that you’ve been making your decisions based on what you feel you _should_ do, like you’re so concerned with what others think, you’ve neglected to consider yourself.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Finn replies, shaking his head.

Kurt smiles slowly and it’s fond.  Usually when people smile at him like that, they are making fun of him, but with Kurt it’s different.  “You’ve made all these plans and you’ve forgotten to do the most important thing: to make sure it’s what you really want.”

What he wants.  It’s almost a foreign concept to him.  Finn thought that being an adult meant that you were supposed to stop doing what you want in favor of doing what you’re supposed to do.

“So,” Kurt continues, “why don’t you ask yourself, right now… what do you want?”

Maybe the problem is that Finn doesn’t know what he wants.  He finished high school, and it’s as if now that he has a rolled-up piece of paper and a square hat that he’s supposed to suddenly have direction.  He’s not like Rachel; he’s not like _Kurt_.  He doesn’t look ahead and see a plan or a roadmap.  When he wants something, he wants it _now_ , not years from now.  So maybe tonight he can’t answer what he wants to do with his life, but there _is_ something he wants; something he didn’t expect but suddenly it’s urgent and too important, and he has no business asking for it.

Luckily Finn is selfish enough to ask for it anyway.  “Tell me again.”

Kurt ticks his head instantaneously.  “Tell you what?”

“That I’m good.  That I’m a good person.”

Finn can’t interpret the look on Kurt’s face, but it’s serious and more intense that Kurt usually looks.  “You are good, Finn.  You’re decent and kind, and you’re brave in ways you don’t even realize.”

Finn crosses to Kurt and falls on his knees at Kurt’s feet.  He grips Kurt by his hipbones, and pushes the top of his head into the center of Kurt’s chest, enough that Kurt rocks back slightly before he can right himself.  His hands fall to Finn’s hair, and Finn can feel Kurt stroking it between his fingers.  He wants to beg Kurt to never stop; to hold onto him forever, reassuring him and telling him that’s he’s okay.  That he’ll be okay.

“You’re a good man, Finn.  And you’re going to keep getting better, because that’s what people like you do.  You want to be good, so you’ll keep trying, and that’s a hell of a lot more than I can say about most people.”

Finn looks up, just to look, to see Kurt’s face; to see the honesty and sincerity there.  It brings them face-to-face, Kurt’s hands falling to his sides again, and the shift causes the tip of his nose to graze Kurt’s in a feather soft, barely-there sensation.  Finn shivers.

“Tell me what to do,” Finn begs.  “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

Kurt shakes his head.  “I can’t make that decision for you,” he says, but he doesn’t sound resolved.

“Maybe tomorrow you can’t, but you can tonight.”  It’s a whisper, but Finn gives himself credit for saying it.  Maybe he is a little bit brave after all.

Kurt shakes his head again, but this time the beauty of his face is marred by a sad, wobbly smile.  “You don’t want that.”

“Yes, I do,” Finn says, feeling bolder by the second.  “For once, I’m really freakin’ sure.”  He cradles Kurt’s head and closes the gap between them, meeting Kurt’s mouth with none of the chastity of the last time.  Kurt opens up to him right away, receptive and accepting, and he tastes better than anything Finn can remember.  Kurt’s tongue touches Finn’s lightly, and when Finn can’t stop the deep, low rumble in his chest in response, Kurt abandons all restraint and dives into him.

Pulling at his clothes, Kurt drags Finn into his bed, and it’s fucking glorious in there.  The mattress is firm, the pillows and sheets are impossibly soft, and Kurt is the perfect combination of both.  His hair is silky, clean and free of product in a way that Finn rarely sees on Kurt, but his body is strong and more unyielding than Finn is used to.  His chest is flat and defined when Finn gets his hand under Kurt’s shirt, and his nipples get tight and firm with one pass of Finn’s hand over them.  Once Finn has finally pulled all of himself off the floor and onto the bed, Kurt hooks one of his calves behind his knee and pulls, bringing their hips together with enough force to make Finn whimper in the back of his throat.

“Okay,” Kurt breathes, his mouth suddenly and regretfully withdrawn.  He holds the fabric of Finn’s t-shirt between his fingers, and pulls on it in two short tugs.  “Off.”

Finn nods, understanding, and he quickly divests himself of his shirt then wonders what he should do about his pants.  He glances at Kurt, and his hands falter as he observes as each region of fair skin is revealed, one piece at a time as Kurt pulls his pajama bottoms down over his hips and down his thighs.  Finn swallows.

Kurt notices Finn watching him, and he looks curious.  Kurt glances down at his own erection—flushed and dark, and Finn thinks he’s probably not fully hard yet but it’s already pretty big, _Jesus_ —and when he looks back at Finn, he asks without any judgment that Finn can detect, “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” Finn manages, his mouth dry.  Finn strips off his boxers and pajama pants in a hurry, thinking that he’s ahead of Kurt in the erection department: he’s hard as a rock.  He lays back, his head nestled in soft pillows, drinking Kurt in and waiting.  He wants to touch, wants it so badly, but he needs this more.  Needs to turn himself over to Kurt and let him lead.

Kurt must take Finn lying on his back as an invitation, because he crawls on top of Finn and kisses him soundly and without art.  It’s not careful or calculated; this thing between them grows out of itself, and Kurt knows just how to guide it, a thought that makes Finn compare Kurt to a trellis in his head until he realizes that it’s a stupid analogy.  Kurt hovers his body on his elbows above Finn, so they aren’t really touching, and Finn can only assume that Kurt is doing it for his benefit; that Kurt doesn’t want to throw too much at him at once or scare him off.  _He still doesn’t get it_ , Finn thinks.  Doesn’t get that it is exactly what he wants: for Kurt to pull him out of himself until up is down and black is white.  To disassemble his every preconception so that Finn has to redefine what it means to be Finn Hudson.

Finn allows himself to touch Kurt now, knowing that he has to give something back so that Kurt will know that he’s okay, that he’s in this too.  With his hands he finds the parts of Kurt that are sharp and the parts that are soft and all the parts in between.  Digging his heels into the mattress, Finn thrusts his hips so that their thighs touch and their dicks meet, the dry friction causing the skin to tug and pull in a stark scratch of pleasure along Finn’s spine.  Kurt’s head drops to Finn’s shoulder just before the rest of his body falls and his body weight presses down on him, and it occurs to Finn that maybe all this isn’t just for _him_.  Maybe Kurt needs this too.

His nerves sparking and humming at the contact, Finn doesn’t understand why Kurt lifts off of him until in an instant his dick is wet at the head, Kurt’s tongue swirling around him in a swirl that makes his head spin.  Finn tangles his hands in Kurt’s fancy, imported sheets—Kurt said they were from Egypt or something—as Kurt takes in a deep breath and pushes down, laying his tongue flat and easing Finn’s cock down the smooth, constricted void of his throat.  It’s mind-numbing, the way that it never seems to end, just one long stroke that threatens to destroy him, and Finn thinks that this is why dudes make such a big deal about deep throating.  He pushes that thought away though.  He doesn’t want anyone else in his head, not when Kurt so gently places his hand on Finn’s belly when the muscles there involuntarily jump.

When Kurt finally bottoms out, his lips tightly sealed around the base of Finn’s dick, every inch of it held snugly inside Kurt’s body, Kurt almost makes Finn come when his hands unexpectedly and so tenderly cup Finn’s balls, lifting them slightly and relieving them of their gravity.  He sets a rhythm then, pulling off and then sinking back down in a patient syncopation—like he’s got all the time in the world, like he could suck Finn’s cock for-fucking- _ever_ —until Finn’s thighs shake with intensity and he maybe even drools a little bit.

The sensation becomes so overwhelming that he has trouble differentiating what is coming from where, so when feels something slide into Kurt’s mouth alongside his dick, he can hardly even speculate what it is.  It doesn’t matter anyway, not with the way with bed jostles slightly with the way Kurt is slowly rutting against it or the way they’ve got gone quiet enough to hear the slick noises of where their bodies are joined.  Finn takes a second to applaud himself on his stamina—he’s not exactly known for his ability to last—but he is promptly distracted when he feels something slide in retreat from Kurt’s mouth and drag a wet trail down against the sensitive skin of his taint, and passes over his hole in a ghost of a whisper.  Finn’s body jerks like the time he stuck a fork in the toaster, but Kurt rides with wave, seemingly prepared of the strength of Finn’s reaction.  He can’t process anything, his brain is too liquefied, so when Kurt tries again, pushes against the external resistance of his body, Finn is completely shocked.  He gasps, his thighs tensing but somehow it opens him up, allowing Kurt to push into him in quick, brutal stroke.  Kurt’s finger enters and immediately crooks, finds something inside him and Finn has no freaking clue what it is but thinks it might be an orgasm button except that the pleasure is so intense that his body is too busy trying not to explode to be able to come.

Reflexively Finn grabs Kurt’s hand at the wrist and tears it from his body before either of them can even blink.  “No,” Finn exclaims, almost yelling, and Kurt pulls off of his dick long enough to shush and calm him.

“Sorry,” Kurt says blinking, his mouth swollen and red.  He pets Finn’s flank with one hand and strokes his cock with the other, but he looks dampened and apologetic.  “I got carried away.  I should’ve known you wouldn’t want that.”

The statement hits Finn like a blow to the chest.  Kurt’s getting the wrong idea again, and Finn has to fix it right now.  He can’t have Kurt thinking what he’s so obviously thinking.

Getting his hands under Kurt’s armpits he hauls him up until they are face-to-face again.  Kurt’s face goes carefully blank, a look that Finn is too familiar with, so Finn traces it with his fingers—his chin, his eyebrows, his temples—as if he can paint the sweet, flushed abandon back onto it.  “That’s not…  I was too close.  I was gonna come my brains out, and I was afraid that I’d fall pass out before I ever got to feel you, and…  That’s not what I wanted.”  Finn closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Kurt jaw.  “And I don’t want to be presumptuous or whatever, but you kinda made it seem like this was about figuring out what I want.”

Kurt laughs, low and without much volume, but it sounds relieved.  “Yes, I suppose it is.”  Kurt pulls back far enough to look Finn in his eyes, and Finn does his best to relay everything he’s feeling in that single look.  Kurt looks relaxed again; he still looks hungry, but the lines of worry have smoothed away.  He smiles a little as he takes Finn’s dick back in hand and Finn groans, and it’s so easy to take Kurt in his own hand in turn.  Kurt moans low and long, and Finn can feel the vibration pass from Kurt’s chest to his.  Finn strokes for a moment, causing Kurt to get distracted enough by the sensation that he falters in the insistent rhythm of his work on Finn.

Finn jerks Kurt off, and it’s not weird at all.  He doesn’t have any sort of crisis, and he doesn’t worry about what it means.  Instead he watches Kurt’s expression change from lax to pained when Finn twists his wrist just right, and Finn can admit that he loves it.  Loves the way Kurt looks and feels and tastes and smells, loves the weight of him in his hand and his breath on his neck, and he freaking loved the way he felt inside of him.  Finn shifts up the bed a few inches so that he and Kurt are aligned just right, then takes a firm grip of Kurt’s dick and guides it between his legs, smearing a hot, sticky streak of precome below his balls.

Shuddering hard, Kurt grips Finn’s dick so hard it almost hurts, but Finn must be messed up because even the pain feels good.  “Show me what to do, Kurt,” he whispers in the delicate shell of Kurt’s alabaster ear.  “I’m lost here, man, but I want you so bad.”

Kurt squeezes his eyes shut tightly and doesn’t respond.  Finn holds his breath, his hard-on beginning to wane as he worries that he’s crossed a line that Kurt wasn’t ready to cross.

“I can’t,” Kurt replies.  He sounds so hurt.  “I can’t do… that.  Not when you’re going to leave in the morning.  Not when I can’t be sure that you are ever coming back.”

“Then I won’t go.”  Just like that a light switch flips in his mind and he just _knows_.  He’s not the kind of person who can take up arms against another person, and maybe that makes him soft, or maybe it makes him foolish that he didn’t figure that out before now, but Kurt is here with him; Kurt thinks he’s good and brave and looks at him now like he’s sexy and precious, and it’s probably dumb for that to be the thing that makes Finn realize he’s worth more than being a body behind a gun, but it is.

“Finn,” Kurt appeals, and keeps talking.  Why does he keep talking right now when they are both so naked?  “One should never make major life decisions while horny.  I’m pretty sure it’s a rule on the internet.”

“No, I mean it.  And if we have to stop right now for you to believe it, then we can stop.  If you have to watch me eat breakfast tomorrow morning, and look for jobs, and not get on that bus before the crack of dawn, then we can do that too.  I’ll figure something out, and until I do I’ll work at the shop to pay my way, but regardless of any of that I will still want to see this through.  So if we have to wait for me to prove how serious I am, then we can wait, because I finally freaking want something bad enough to ask for it.”

Kurt’s face is unreadable for a moment, and Finn prepares himself for the sting of being kicked out of the warm cocoon of Kurt’s bed, imagines how hollow it will be to jerk off into the toilet or shower of their shared bathroom when he knows that Kurt is here and Kurt can make him feel like _this_ , but he made a decision and he is willing to stand behind it.  Kurt doesn’t kick him out though.  Instead Kurt reaches over to his nightstand and pulls the drawer open, rifling through its contents and pulling out a bottle of lube which he places on the center of Finn’s chest.  Kurt’s hand continues searching though, looking for something but apparently coming up empty by the way his face tightens and he huffs in frustration.

“What?”  Finn asks.  “What’s wrong?”

“No condoms,” Kurt grits out, still looking as if they might magically appear if he wants it bad enough.

“It’s okay,” Finn says, taking Kurt’s grasping hand from the drawer and interlacing their fingers.  He pulls Kurt in close for this, because somehow it feels more intimate than anything they’ve said or done so far.  “I’ve never been with anyone without one before.  Have you?”

Still looking frustrated, Kurt shakes his head.

“Then we’ll be okay, right?  I mean, it’s not like you can get me pregnant.”  Finn widens his eyes as far as he can.  “Wait, you can’t, can you?  Because I’m not ready to be a dad, dude.”

Kurt’s face goes from stricken to exasperated in no time flat.  Finn kind of loves how Kurt can do that: turn on a dime.  He’s surprising, all the time and in lots of different ways.

“I’m kidding,” Finn says, poking Kurt in the side.  Kurt just nods and rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing a little too.  It feels good, and it feels even better knowing that he and Kurt can still be themselves, even like this.  It only strengthens his resolve.  “Look, if you don’t want to… ya know, without one, then that’s okay.  I can wait.”

Kurt regards him.  “You seems awfully eager to put this off.  Are you sure you even want to?  Because if you’re not sure—”

“I’m sure.”  Finn says it before Kurt can finish his thought.  “Are you kidding me?  I’m freakin’ dying over here.  I’m just trying to be all noble and stuff, but dude.  You’re making it really hard.”

Kurt laughs big and bright then covers his mouth with the pads of his fingers.  They need to be quiet; Burt and Carole are right down the hall, and Finn is so hard up that the thought isn’t even enough to kill his boner.  Kurt’s eyes get all hot then, and Finn is aware he’s seen that look before though it wasn’t directed at him.  Simultaneously Kurt begins rubbing his half-hard cock in the crease between Finn’s thigh and his dick and grabs the lube off of Finn’s chest with decisiveness.  “Help me with this,” Kurt commands, slapping the tube in Finn’s hand as grinds his hips against Finn’s pelvis, getting himself ready and driving Finn fucking insane by being so close to his cock and balls but not quite close enough to stimulate them.

Finn scrambles to unscrew the cap to the tube and squeezes what seems like a generous amount on Kurt’s fingers when he offers them.  Kurt instructs him that he needs more, and Finn gets kind of scared for a second—he has thought about having anal sex before, though in his imagination he was on the other end—but the feeling goes away quickly when he thinks about Kurt.  Kurt, who has been driving him crazy so far, who somehow knows just how to kiss him, just how to suck him, and yeah, just how to hold him to keep him from shaking apart.

Possibly sensing Finn’s reticence, Kurt gets his non-lubed hand into Finn’s hair again and breaths humid air against his neck as he whispers in his ear, “I’ve got you, okay?  You tell me if you don’t like something and I’ll stop, but I’m gonna take care of you.”  Finn feels something swell in his chest and his cock surges at the words.  Kurt capitalizes on the distraction, and unceremoniously pushes what feels like two fingers into Finn in a single wet, messy stroke.  It feels strange and good, but Kurt doesn’t hit the orgasm button this time, so Finn focuses on the sensation, working hard to remember to breathe.

Kurt’s arm works, invading and retreating over and over, pushing more and more of the thick, slippery substance into Finn and occasionally reaching out for Finn to load his fingers up again.  It’s not long before Kurt adds another finger, and damn it feels like a lot.  He feels stretched and open and wanton already, and he wonders how on Earth he’s going to get all of Kurt’s cock in him.  Finn swallows, but reassures himself; a dick can’t be much thicker than three fingers, right?

“You are so good, Finn.”  Kurt says it with affection in his voice, and Finn’s eyes roll back in his head.  “You are doing so well.  Only one more, okay?”

Finn’s eyes tear open.  “Only one more _what_?  You aren’t trying to get your whole hand in there, are you?”

Kurt shushes him, but it’s gentle.  “Believe me, it’ll be easier if I can get you used to at least three fingers beforehand.”

Finn can feel the horrified look on his face.  “Wait… you mean this is only _two_?”

In response Kurt only kisses him, his fully-hard dick laying against Finn’s thigh, and god…  Kurt’s mouth could convince him of anything, like the sky is orange or that the University of Michigan has a better football team than Ohio State.  Kurt kisses like his goal is to turn Finn inside out and rewrite every truth he’s ever known.  It’s enough that when Kurt inserts that third finger, Finn doesn’t even flinch in his eagerness to take as much of Kurt as he’ll spare.

Kurt fucks him on his fingers.  Sure he wiggles them, making an effort to stretch the rim enough for what’s to come, but he also churns them inside of Finn, his arm flexing in the effort, as if this was it; that this point in time is where every look, word, and year between them have been leading.

“Please,” Finn begs, his voice cracking.  He’s getting close again from the intensity of it, and when Kurt’s digits slide against that damn button inside him again he get really fucking desperate.

Nodding Kurt withdraws his fingers from Finn’s body, and Finn can feel how it doesn’t immediately close back up as tightly as before.  Kurt reaches his hand out again and meets Finn’s eyes, the two of them looking into each other as Finn squeezes the tube until Kurt nods in acknowledgement that it’s enough.  This time though, instead of his hand disappearing between Finn’s legs, Kurt slathers the viscous fluid along the length of his dick, hissing then biting his lip as he does it.

Finn is nervous and a little scared and so fucking ready, holy crap; just get on with it already.  His body feels open and kind of fluttery, and Finn breathes unevenly in anticipation until Kurt grabs a hold of himself and aims it at Finn, poising the thick head of it at his sloppy, easy entrance.  When Kurt begins to push, Finn sucks in a breath and holds it.  God, it feel enormous—it feels _impossible_ —and the farther Kurt pushes in the more the stretch evolves from strangeness to discomfort to pain.

“Push,” Kurt says, and it doesn’t make sense to Finn in this context.  “I know,” he acknowledges vaguely, “but trust me.  You’ve got to push.”

Finn doesn’t understand and his body is starting to spasm around Kurt and it’s too much and suddenly Finn isn’t so sure about any of this.  But Kurt said he’d take care of him; he told him that he was good, and Finn desperately doesn’t want him to change his mind, so he pushes down in direct opposition of what he would expect to need to do.  Instantly the slide becomes easier, and it only takes a few more seconds until Kurt stops pushing because he’s buried as far as he can go, their balls resting against each other, as they both take a second to gather themselves.

Finn feels sweat starting to bead up on his temples and under his arms, and there’s a sticky humidity between their chests that should be gross and uncomfortable, but it’s not.  It’s so not.  Finn is on his back, his thighs spread wide and lewd, and Kurt is snug in the V-shaped void between them; he’s _inside of Finn_ and he feels fucking huge and Finn thinks he’s never felt this way before: so full and so vulnerable and so safe all at the same time.  He expects the reappearance of Kurt Hummel: Sex God any minute now, and although Finn was somewhat surprised and suitably impressed by how take-charge and skillful his been at all this sex stuff, Finn finds that he has acclimated well, if he can say so himself.  So when Kurt clings to him, his hips stilled and his breath frantic against Finn’s collarbone, Finn becomes concerned.

“Hey,” Finn prods, running his hands up and down Kurt’s back in slow, hopefully soothing swipes.  “You okay?”

Kurt huffs a single, airy laugh, but it sounds more like a nervous response than an expression of joy.  “I’m fine,” Kurt assures, taking a beat before turning to Finn, his expression carefully measured.  “I’m good,” he says, and at that Finn can see Kurt’s determination return.  There’s something forced about it though, and maybe it’s their newly discovered intimacy or maybe he’s been able to read Kurt this well all along, but he understands with perfect clarity that Kurt is just as unsteady as Finn is in this moment.  He may be the expert in gay sex of the two of them, but he’s still only been with one guy—a guy that he thought was true love, a guy with whom he had just broken up a few weeks ago.  Kurt’s been trying so hard to be what Finn needs that Finn forgot that this could be just as scary and new for Kurt as for himself.

“I’ve got _you_ too, ya know,” Finn confides, kissing Kurt on his nose and cheekbone and everywhere he can reach.  “It’s okay.  Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.  I’m here for you.”

Apparently that was all Kurt needed to hear, because his eyes catch on fire and his voice turns to smoke when he orders, “Legs to your chest, as far as you can get them.”

Finn gulps and complies without question, and fuck; Kurt is a freaking genius.  The shift in position grazes Kurt’s fat dick across that fucking amazing, magical place inside of him, and when Kurt starts to fuck him—it’s not just thrusting, in and out; it’s a full-on _assault_ , like it had been with Kurt’s fingers except his cock feels more like a baseball bat—Finn hooks his hands behind his knees and pulls them to his shoulders as best he can, tilting his pelvis even more, so that Kurt’s perfect, hard barrage hits that sweet spot every single fucking time.

“Finn,” Kurt says, the authority in his voice raising goose bumps on Finn’s arms.  “Can you come just like this?”

Huh?  Words.  What?  “Mnuh?”

Kurt must take some kind of meaning from that, because he frees up his dominant hand, still kind of slick with lube and wraps it around Finn’s dick, stroking from the base to the head as his dick withdraws from Finn’s ass and from the head to the base as he pushes back in.  It’s maddening, and Finn hears himself starting to mutter a string of nonsense words and noises, and with the way his orgasm is building in his gut and his balls, he can neither control nor decipher what he’s saying.

“Oh, fuck,” Kurt says, or at least Finn thinks that’s what he says.  “Are you close?”  Kurt asks, and when he doesn’t get a response, he insists.  “Finn, answer me.  How close are you?”

“Please,” Finn pleads.  It’s all he can muster.  “Oh god, Kurt.  Please.”

Ducking his head, Kurt speeds the pace of his hand and his hips both, and how he manages to coordinate it all Finn will never know but will always, always be thankful for.  Finn feels split open, his ass starting to feel raw as they wear through the lubricant, but all it does is make everything more real as the friction creeps in and burns Finn from the inside out.  Kurt pants in his ear, and Finn has seen Kurt exert himself before by dancing and even running, but he’s never heard or seen him as out of control as this.  “God, you feel so good, Finn.  Look so hot like that.  I’m gonna come.  Are you gonna come with me?”

That’s it.  That’s all it takes.  Finn feels it looming just on the edge of his consciousness, thinking he has another minute in him, but he doesn’t.  It’s a shock and he yells, just one eruption of sound, as his balls gather up and his dick pumps, thumping in time with his heart and Kurt’s hand, releasing one streak and then two of come, long stripes of evidence that land on his skin like birds.  Kurt still hovers above him, his weight on both of his strong arms now that he’s let Finn go, the muscles of his abs contracting and releasing as he chases his orgasm.  Finn comes back to himself enough to run his hand down Kurt’s back and to cup his ass, feeling as those muscles work too.  Kurt is so sexy and strong and smart; Finn trusts him so much, lets Kurt into the parts of him where no one else would be allowed, and apparently he means that as much literally as he does figuratively.  Finn admits all of this out loud in a nonsensical flow of consciousness, and for all he knows he’s professing his unending love like a doofus because Finn gets dumb after he comes, but it’s okay because then Kurt comes too, making sweet, honest noises in his throat as his hips still and he spills into the welcoming void of Finn’s body.

They lie motionless for a few moments, and Finn thinks to himself that he is going to need a baseball glove in order to catch his breath, and then he laughs at his own ludicrousness but also at the weightless ease he feels in his chest.  Kurt wraps his arms around Finn’s middle and they embrace, and it feels like the exact right thing, like it is the Point B they’ve been moving toward since the Point A when they met.

Kurt’s dick softens, and Kurt needs only to barely shift for it to slip out of Finn’s body.  Apparently it was the dam holding back the flood however, because when Kurt withdraws Finn feels for the first time just how much lube and come is inside him as his still-relaxed hole releases the fluids in a slow ooze.  Finn isn’t fazed though; yeah, he’s going to be a mess for a while, but it’s a much more desirable mess than the one in his head before he walked into this room.

His head pillowed on Finn’s chest, Kurt is a pleasant weight tucked under Finn’s arm and along his right side.  Finn is so emptied out and exhausted that his eyelids droop in no time, but before he falls into sleep, Kurt speaks without lifting his head, he jaw working in a way Finn can feel on his skin.  “You’re going to want to set the alarm on my phone if you’re going to wake up in time for your bus.”

It’s a slap in the face, but Finn recovers quickly.  He draws little swirled patterns on Kurt’s shoulder with the tips of his fingers, and tries to sound gentle.  “I thought we went through this.  When that bus comes and goes, I won’t be on it.  I’m kinda hoping I’ll be dead asleep when it leaves; the Army is crazy about getting up early.”

Kurt squeezes Finn around his middle, but he doesn’t say anything for long minutes.  Finn is surprised when he speaks again.  “You should probably go back to your room before you fall asleep though.  I’m pretty sure you don’t want your mom and my dad to find us like this, and there is no way I’m going to fireman’s carry your heavy ass back in there.”

“I know,” Finn teases.  “You would bridal carry me first.”

Kurt scoffs.  “You’re delusional.”

Finn smiles, and holds Kurt close.  Maybe the following day still holds a lot of uncertainty, but Finn finally, thankfully feels good about a decision.  It’s possible that he’ll regret not joining the Army—he does expect it though—and it’s entirely more possible that Kurt will regret him in the morning, or that he’ll be back together with Blaine this time next week, but he’s not going to worry himself sick, at least not right now.  He can feel Kurt’s breath on his skin as it begins to even out and slow, and Finn knows that whatever the outcome, Kurt gave him this gift.  He has learned that he can sometimes get what he wants and still be a grown-up, that Kurt thinks he’s good and kind of sexy too, and that gay stuff is where it’s _at_.  Even if Kurt goes back to being his brother and nothing more, at least he has those things to which to cling and hold close to his heart when he needs them.

Finn grabs Kurt’s phone off of his nightstand and sets it for 4 a.m.  It’s the around same time he would get up to be ready for the bus and knowing his mom, she will be knocking on his door not long thereafter to wake him, so when the alarm sounds he will sneak out and across the hall and pretend to be asleep when she comes calling.  Until then though he plans on staying right where he is, holding onto the fleeting feeling in his chest that everything will be okay and the man responsible for putting it there.


End file.
